


Wedding Night

by plumeria47



Category: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street - Natasha Pulley
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Present Tense, synthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumeria47/pseuds/plumeria47
Summary: Missing scene: between when Grace leaves Thaniel at Mori's place, and the clearly post-coital moment when Mori realizes that Grace is planning something.It is Thaniel's wedding night, after all, a time when relationships are often consumated.  Just ... maybe not with the bride.





	Wedding Night

**Author's Note:**

> Fic is unbetaed. Apologies for any mistakes.

Thaniel pauses a moment on the doorstep, watching Grace make her way down the street, then steps back so he can shut and lock the door. The stairs creak green as he climbs them, and he shivers a little, though from chill or anticipation, he isn't sure. Mori opens the door at his knock, silently stepping back to usher Thaniel in. Despite Mori's claim that the wood was damp, the fire has clearly been going long enough that the room is noticeably warmer than the landing outside. He watches it crackling nicely for a moment, the sound matching the red-gold flames in the hearth, before he manages to tear his eyes away. Mori waits patiently, with his usual smooth expression. His shirt is still open at the throat, the collar gone. His tie still hangs from his braces, and Thaniel fights the urge to reach out and tug Mori closer with it.

"It's all right, you know," Mori says.

"I … don't know what to do," Thaniel says, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. "I've never done this before."

Mori smiles gently. "Neither have I - not with a man, anyway. But you'll be quite good. Trust me."

"All right." Thaniel looks over the familiar lines of Mori's face, then down to his mouth, remembering.

In response, Mori reaches out one delicately-fingered hand and curls it behind Thaniel's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Their lips meet, slow and soft, much as they had downstairs. One kiss becomes two, becomes five, becomes an infinity of possibilities. Thaniel thinks of nothing but the feel of Mori's lips against his, until he unexpectedly realizes his hands have strayed up to Mori's hair. The strands are sleek to his touch, not soft exactly but very smooth, and he spends long moments concentrating on the feel of Mori's hair sliding between his fingers, on the way Mori leans into his touch.

Thaniel opens his eyes; he hadn't realised that he'd closed them. Mori's head is tipped slightly to the side, against his hand, showing more of his elegant throat, and how beautiful, Thaniel reflects, that his throat is the same golden colour as the sound it produces. Without thinking he dips his head to taste, to see if that golden hue can be enjoyed through all his senses together. 

Mori groans, low, startling him with reddish hues. Thaniel steps back. "Was that…? I shouldn't have—"

But Mori grabs his wrist, preventing further retreat. "Yes. You should have."

Thaniel stares at him a long moment, remembering the taste of gold, the scent of lemon, the sunset-painted sound that had hit him precisely like the table didn't. His heart pounds under the light sweep of Mori's thumb on his wrist and his thoughts pound through his brain like a runaway horse. If only he could have typed his thoughts in code, he could have known what to say, he thinks.

Mori turns Thaniel's hand over in his own, exposing the small button that fastens Thaniel's shirt cuff. In moments he has slipped the button free of the tiny hole and slides it gently off . Without thinking, Thaniel holds out his other wrist, already palm up, and lets Mori remove that cuff, too. Slanted brown eyes search his for a long moment; Thaniel becomes aware that his breathing is already becoming unsteady just from the way Mori is looking at him, his stomach full of the little sparks of heat he sees in the electric bulbs. Releasing Thaniel's wrist, Mori steps around until he is at Thaniel's back, his gentle hands deftly sliding Thaniel's coat off his shoulders. Thaniel feels goosebumps rise all down his arms as the coat slips free, although whether it's from the swirl of cool air and warmth from the fire or the feel of Mori's fingertips skimming him through the thin shirtsleeves, he is not sure. He watches Mori carefully hang his coat on a hook on the wall, unconsciously turning toward him, like a flower to the sun, and thus is nearly face to face with him once Mori straightens up again.

He reaches out a hand, then stops. "May I?" he asks.

Mori nods. "You needn't ask aloud, you know, " he adds, tapping the side of his own head for emphasis.

Thaniel shakes his head. "No, I want you to remember this." Mori smiles again, his eyes crinkling, and Thaniel draws in a shaky breath at the effect that smile is having on him.

It is his turn, though, to remove Mori's coat. Thaniel had thought how fragile and birdlike Mori had always seemed, yet as he runs his hands along Mori's slim shoulders and down his arms, he senses a latent strength beneath the fabric. Like one of the delicate clockwork birds, he has hidden fireworks under his skin. 

Waistcoats and shirts soon follow, Thaniel fumbling a little on Mori's buttons. He remembers how, on the day they'd met, Mori had politely turned his back as Thaniel had stripped out of his bloody shirt and donned the borrowed one. This time, however, Mori looks. Mori touches. And Thaniel swifly loses his discomfort at being so exposed in front of another person as Mori runs warm fingers over his collarbones, through his chest hair, down his ribs, over his abdomen. Mori himself has very little in the way of body hair; Thaniel had tried not to notice this during the times Mori had rolled up his sleeves to reveal smooth forearms, tried not to imagine, but now that he is allowed to see it all for himself, he cannot stop touching Mori in return. There are scars he doesn't ask about, but he traces some of them with his thumbs, stroking back and forth and watching Mori take a silver-hued shuddering breath.

This time when their mouths come together, there's a hunger that had been lacking before. Before, Thaniel had simply relished in the feel of Mori's lips against his, the gentle but joyous intimacy of the moment. Now, Mori is licking into his mouth, plundering him, and he welcomes the invasion. His own arms snake around Mori's bare back, and the feel of Mori's golden skin everywhere against him – under his palms, against his own bare chest – makes him gasp against Mori's lips. Thaniel has known, logically, what married couples – and those in brothels – do, but never knew what the touch of another person would do to him; how it would _undo_ him. All he can think of, as he thoroughly explores the textures of Mori's mouth, is that he wants more. He _craves_ more, like a wanton thing. 

Before he realizes it, Thaniel's hands have strayed down to Mori's buttocks, cupping the gentle curve of his arse and pulling him snugly against him, hip to hip. Although he'd had the sense of Mori's hardness from just clasping their torsos together, now there is no denying it. Mori's length presses insistently into his right groin, and the pressure of Mori's body against his own stiff length makes him suck in another breath. 

"God, Mori…" he groans in between kisses as hot sparks shoot through his body.

At this, Mori takes a step back. Thaniel is about to protest the loss of contact when he realizes that Mori is tugging him along toward the bed. He stumbles along in Mori's wake, trying to keep him as close as possible while still trying to walk and remain upright. 

Mori bumps the back of his knees against the bed, the abrupt end to momentum drawing them flush together again. His breath is coming in short, silver gasps, a beautiful compliment to his dark, slanted eyes. 

As delicious as it is to be pressed skin to skin from the waist up, Thaniel's desire has him yearning to be rid of the rest of their clothing, to see and know all of Mori, and to share all of himself in return.

"Yes," murmurs Mori in agreement, as Thaniel kisses and licks his way down Mori's golden throat.

His lips continue their ministrations as his hands slide down and tug at Mori's trouser buttons. The angle is awkward with his hands crushed between their bodies, neither one of them wishing to separate more than a hair's breadth, and Thaniel has never done – or undone - buttons facing the opposite way before. He briefly, dizzily, wishes he'd had some training as a manservant and then his fingers would know what to do, but then Mori twists his head to run his tongue on the sensitive skin behind Thaniel's ear and he can't think of anything at all. His hands fly to Mori's hips of their own volition, pulling him close and thrusting against him in an avalanche of need.

When the moment passes and his own rose-hued groan has subsided, Thaniel finishes with Mori's buttons, then those on his thin underdrawers. He shoves both downward to pool at Mori's ankles, then bends down to slip off Mori's shoes so he can step out of them, while Mori rests his hands on Thaniel's shoulders for balance.

Thaniel is torn. Still crouched down near the floor, his face is now level with Mori's full nakedness. On the one hand, he wants, more than anything, to learn all of Mori's body, by sight and taste and smell. Already, the scent of musk is driving him nearly mad with desire. On the other hand, his inborn sense of modesty makes him feel he should apologise for taking such liberties, for looking so closely. But Mori shakes his head fondly at him, and so Thaniel reaches out one cautious hand, trailing a featherlight touch down Mori's abdomen, down, down, into the thatch of dark, wiry hair at the base of his cock. Mori is shorter and thicker than he is, and his hard length points slightly left, whereas Thaniel's, stiff beneath his trousers, points to its customary right. But when Thaniel's hand closes around Mori, his velvet heat, that softness over iron, feels remarkably similar to his own. 

He remembers, suddenly, that he cannot read Mori's mind in return, that he does not know exactly what he might like. But Mori rescues him by pulling him up for a kiss, murmuring, "I should like, first of all, for you to be in the same state of undress, Mr. Steepleton," against his mouth.

Thaniel's fingers immediately go to his own trouser buttons, but Mori stays him with a hand on his wrist, gentle but firm, the meaning clear. He must wait in an agony of want as Mori takes his time working buttons free, fingers brushing against his cock as he works. Even before it is fully released from the confines of cloth, Thaniel can see and feel it twitch with every accidental caress. At last, though, his clothing and shoes are but a distant memory, and Thaniel is no longer thinking at all of his own modesty, but only of the prospect of having every inch of Mori pressed to him. When he stands as bare as Mori, with only their garters and socks as a barrier to the chilly floor, Thaniel cannot wait another moment. With his hands on Mori's shoulders, he presses him down onto the duvet, crawling on top so their bodies may be completely flush against each other. Skin touching everywhere, cocks pressed together – it's easily the best Thaniel has ever felt in his whole life and he sucks in one ragged breath after another as Mori kisses and sucks his way down his jaw, pausing at the place where his pulse throbs in his throat. 

Thaniel shifts slightly to one side so he can more easily run his hands along the golden skin. He takes a moment to explore Mori's tight nipples, first rolling them in his fingers and then licking experimentally, while Mori's lithe fingers trace the line of Thaniel's spine, then over his hip before sliding into the nearly nonexistent space between their bodies. And Thaniel was mistaken – the feel of Mori wrapping those delicate fingers around his hard length is truly the best he's ever felt. But if this is the only night they get to spend together, then Thaniel wants to spend it lavishing attention on the beautiful Japanese man sprawled beneath him, not hedonistically receiving all the attention. 

Gently, he removes Mori's hand, pinning him to the bed by the wrist. "No, you must let me," he murmurs.

He expects Mori to protest, stubborn as he is about so many other things, but he does not. Mori simply lifts his free hand to brush the tip of his index finger against Thaniel's lips, whispering, "Use your mouth." 

Thaniel gives a small nod so as not to dislodge Mori's finger. Experimentally he darts his tongue out to lick the warm tip, and when Mori draws in a sharp breath, he smiles and does it again, swirling his tongue more thoroughly across the textured pad of the proffered finger. Mori's sharp breath turns to silver panting.

Emboldened by this success, Thaniel slides down Mori's body, tasting every inch he can reach, trying to see where he can elicit the greatest response. The crease behind Mori's ear, the hollow of his throat, nipples, hipbones, and then – Thaniel slides down further still - the inside of his thighs. Musk floods Thaniel's senses as he nuzzles at the crease between hip and thigh, tongue darting out along the soft, warm skin. 

Mori's delicate fingers have been rhythmically carding through his hair, but now they tighten, tugging Thaniel more centrally as his gasps become brighter silver in volume. A hard heat brushes Thaniel's cheek as he moves slightly left, and he, too, inhales sharply at the sensation. He has only imagined this moment, never done it, but now that the opportunity is millimeters from his mouth, he wants to draw it out, savour it. He buries his nose into the wiry forest at the base, breathing deeply, then slowly slides back, letting that velvet iron rod caress his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. A drop of wetness has left a tantalizing sheen at the tip, and Thaniel eagerly flicks his tongue out to taste. The salty-bitter tang is strange, neither pleasing nor displeasing in itself, but it is _Mori's_ flavour, which makes all the difference.

All thoughts of savouring the moment vanish; that one droplet awakens a greater hunger, more than Thaniel ever knew he possessed. Boldly he takes Mori fully into his mouth, sliding down as far as he can go, stopping only when his gag reflex threatens to kick in. Than he's sliding back, until the tip is only just restrained by his spit-slick lips, his tongue swirling quickly around the head before he plunges back into the breach. Above him, Mori's silver gasps have turned a ragged deep-throated burgundy, a colour which will cause Thaniel uncomfortable arousal whenever he sees it in future. Mori will tell him this later, but right now all he knows is the feel of Mori's fingers tight in his hair, his own hand steadying the base of Mori's hardness, and the delicious feel of velvet-veined iron slipping in and out of his mouth. His own aching length occasionally brushes Mori's leg, electric pulses rushing through his groin, but Thaniel doesn't let it distract him. 

After long, gorgeously rainbow-hued minutes, Mori's chokes his harsh rasping into words. "Yes?" he bites out, head thrown back, his long throat exposed to Thaniel's view. "Or no? You must … decide … soon."

Thaniel releases Mori only long enough to say, "Yes," and then he's swallowing him down again, jaw and cheeks aching from repeated abuse, but still relishing each new discovery of taste and texture. The hand pushing Mori open at his thigh now moves to Mori's sac, and so he has all the warning he needs as the sac tightens and Mori shouts blue into the darkened room. The droplet he had first sampled is now a flood in his mouth, and for a moment Thaniel struggles with the unexpected abundance. But then he sucks it in and swallows, and releases Mori so they can both breathe.

"Come here," Mori murmurs, as soon as he has come down enough to form words. He tugs Thaniel up so their lips meet again, slow and languid, until Mori shifts Thaniel over enough that his aching length is now pressed flush between them, and Thaniel pulls his mouth away with a shuddering gasp of pleasure. He presses his forehead to Mori's, breathing hard, sharing his air as Mori slides his legs between Thaniel's, spreading them apart, and then thrusting his hips upward against Thaniel's cock, again and again and _again_. 

Thaniel can't think, arousal flooding every part of his body. He has, in those private moments with a hand on himself under the sheets, thought he would be a quiet, controlled lover, but with Mori's hands on his buttocks, roughly pulling their bodies together with every thrust, Thaniel finds he cannot control himself. His thighs instinctively grip Mori's for more leverage, his thrusts losing all sense of rhythm as he feverishly rubs his length against the slim body beneath him. He needs more, more, his body frantic for it, multicolored sighs and groans escaping him without his consent. And then he's there, electric fireflies bursting behind his closed eyelids as pleasure overtakes every cell and he spills himself between them.

He opens his eyes to find Mori gazing up at him, a satisfied smile crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. "The flannel you want is in the bathroom," he says in Japanese.

Thaniel just kisses him in response, reluctant to pull away despite the stickiness, but finally disentangles himself and stands. "I'll be right back," he answers, the Japanese words easily sliding over his tongue. He lingers a moment to enjoy the view of a naked Mori sprawled on the duvet, evidence of their passion still streaking his abdomen, before padding to the chilly bathroom to retrieve the clean flannel that is, sure enough, folded on the edge of the basin. 

After wetting the cloth and cleaning himself up a bit, he rinses it out and brings it to Mori. Without hesitation he straddles Mori's thighs so he can more easily reach all the places that need tending. They are both soft now, but Thaniel still finds it pleasurable when their cocks brush as he shifts over Mori, and he can't resist running his hands over Mori's smooth, warm torso when he's finished. He rinses the flannel one more time and leaves it in the bathroom to dry, then returns to find Mori now under the duvet, a clear space waiting beside him. Thaniel slides between the cool sheets, curling himself up against Mori's back. They fit together so very well, more than he could have imagined, and he feels himself easily sinking into the mattress, sinking into Mori's warmth. The fire is burning lower now and the familiar crackling noises are soothing.

 _The best wedding night I could ever wish for_ , he thinks, sleepily, wrapping an arm around Mori's narrow waist and pulling him close. 

Mori's breathing indicates that he's nearly asleep, himself, but as Thaniel drifts off, he's sure he hears Mori murmur, "Yes, it was."

**Author's Note:**

> *concentrates* I foresee ... something. Yes! I foresee that you want to leave the author feedback! *nods* Yes, please do that. (Concrit is ok, too.)


End file.
